Careful What You Wish For
by soulache
Summary: Slightly AU. Still ultimately Spixie Obviously. Is there another couple?
1. He's Never Been Good To You

_Author's Note: So this is slightly AU (Maxie is dating Logan, as Coop and Lulu never forgave the pair). The TMK is still roaming PC, and Spinelli and Maxie are still working together to bring the killer to justice._

_I wouldn't suggest reading it if you're a fan of Logan, because dimly I'm aware people like that do exist. Also, sorry about all these new stories. I'm on a creative kick. I promise to finish Sometime It's Everything soon...  
_

* * *

"Logan! Can you just – wait. Come on! Stop it!" Maxie exclaimed as he dragged her out of Kelly's, his grip tight against her small wrist. "Logan, would you just – Seriously!"

Maxie managed to shake his hand off her arm and stopped walking to rub her wrist. She could tell by the low light of the night that her skin was red, and would probably turn all sorts of fun colors tomorrow. Logan loomed over her, and then suddenly pushed her back against the brick wall unceremoniously.

"Listen, darlin," Logan drawled out, "I don't care whether I'm right or wrong – you never make me look like that in public again. Y'hear me?"

"What the hell is your problem?" Maxie said struggling against his hands. "Is it that time of the month, Logan? I have some Midol in my purse."

"I don't appreciate you talking to me like that," Logan said as he thrust a meaty finger into her face. Maxie smacked it away as he finally let her up.

"I don't appreciate you manhandling me like some sort of caveman!" Maxie shouted as she kicked him swiftly in the shin.

"Ow! Damn it, woman!" Logan pushed Maxie hard against the wall, and she felt the brick smash into her shoulder. She blinked furiously trying to process what was happening. Sure, Logan had never been much of a gentleman with her, especially after he lost Lulu but it had never been this bad.

Logan dropped in height so he could look her in the eye and she actually found herself afraid. She tried to squash it, but it wound up her stomach in tiny little knots. She took a deep breath as she saw him lean toward her, but all he did was brush his lips over hers and stride out angrily into the night.

Maxie slid down the wall, holding her wrist in her hand and trying to ignore the pain in her shoulder. All of a sudden all the tears she had locked away threatened to break. Georgie and Coop dead with the killer still out there somewhere, the way she had never got to fix things with Coop, all the awful things she had said to Georgie, Jesse and BJ. All of it was constantly lurking under her skin.

Laying her head on her knees she let the tears fall. Maxie shoulders jerked with the weight of her personal misery. The ground was cold as it seeped through her jeans, her nose was running something wicked, and her wrist and shoulder hurt pretty bad, but none of it mattered right now.

Maxie heard someone approaching and huddled deeper into herself just hoping they wouldn't notice her. The footsteps reached her, passed her, and then stopped. She wrapped her arms tighter around her knees as she listened to the footsteps walk back to her.

"W-wounded Blond One?" Maxie groaned. Of course The Jackal would happen by and be able to recognize her only by her coat and glimmer of blond hair. After all, they had been working closely enough looking for the Text Message Killer.

"No," Maxie muttered to her thighs. She told herself to just keep her head down and maybe he would leave her alone.

"Maxie, it's I: The Jackal, PI."

"No," Maxie said again. Everything got really quiet for a few minutes and she hopped Spinelli had left. She shivered a little, thinking that she'd have to head home soon, but not just yet. Not until she had control over herself. She heard something and lifted her head, only to see that Spinelli had not left, and was in fact now sitting down beside her. "What do you want?"

"The Jackal found your current state to be somewhat distressing, not to mention that it's late and we still believe the killer to be secretly skulking and slinking the streets," he said. Spinelli was resting his head on his knees, looking over at her. Maxie suddenly felt self-conscious and wiped at her face.

"Right. Well, I'm fine," Maxie said as she stood up.

"Clearly," Spinelli said dryly. Maxie looked out into the dark street, absentmindedly still rubbing her wrist. She heard Spinelli shift a little, and then go still. "Did something happen to your dainty wrist?"

"Uh, no. Why?" Maxie questioned, not wanting to get into it.

"You were favoring it."

"Oh," Maxie said as she dropped her hand away from it. "Nervous habit, I guess. Weird, huh?"

"The Jackal tries not to judge on all things weird," Spinelli said with a lopsided smile.

"Probably a good idea," Maxie said teasingly.

"So, do you want to talk about why you were so clearly _fine_ just a few moments ago?"

"I'd rather not. I think I'm just going to call a cab and go home. I'm exhausted."

Spinelli nodded and fished his cellphone out of his jacket pocket and handed it to her wordlessly. Maxie smiled at him, and dialed for her cab. She flipped the phone shut and handed it back to him, their fingers brushing innocently.

"You can go now, you know. Cab is on it's way," Maxie confirmed.

"What kind of gentleman would I be if I do that?" Spinelli question, and Maxie shrugged indifferently. Even if he left her in the middle of a thunderstorm without an umbrella, he would still be more of a gentleman than her boyfriend.

They waited in amicable silence for the cab to pull up. When it finally did, Spinelli rushed to the door and opened it for her and Maxie hopped inside.

"Are you sure you want to stop by tomorrow to work on the case? We can postpone, or The Jackal can forge onward on his own," Spinelli offered hoping to make her feel better.

"I'll be there, so be ready," Maxie said as she leaned over to shut her door and waved at Spinelli through the window. Sighing, she sunk down into her seat and wondered what the hell had happened tonight, and what she was supposed to do about it.

When had getting what you wanted gotten so complicated? Maxie laughed bitterly as the voice inside her head whispered: _Careful what you wish for..._


	2. Forget, I'm Not Sure I Could

Maxie stood outside of Jason's apartment trying to push down the lingering embarrassment of Spinelli running into her yesterday while she was an emotional wreck. She took a few deep breaths and jumped slightly when her cellphone rang. Fishing it out of her handbag she flipped it open and answered it, not bothering to check her caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Hey Maxie," Logan's voice drifted into her ear. She tilted her head considering hanging up, but settled for a frosty silence and a glare she knew he couldn't see. "You there? Come on, Maxie. Stop acting like a child."

"Excuse me! I wasn't the one who threw the temper tantrum last night, was I?" Maxie shot back.

"That's what I was calling about. I just wanted to apologize, darlin. Things between Scott and I must've just been getting to me."

"That doesn't mean you get to take it out on me," Maxie snapped trying to ignore the pang of sympathy she felt for him. "Listen – just don't do it again, and it's as good as forgotten."

"I won't, I promise. I really am sorry, Maxie. I'll call you later," Logan said and hung up his phone.

Maxie went to put her cellphone back to her purse and felt the dull pain of the bruise on her wrist throb. She opened the door and walked in finding the living room empty.

"Hello? Spinelli!" Maxie shouted up the stairs. "I'm here!"

She peeled off her jacket and threw it onto the chair. Maxie looked down and saw that her shirt had been pulled up slightly exposing the blue marks on her arm. Frustrated she pulled the sleeve back to it's proper place.

"Wounded Blond One!" Spinelli exclaimed as he bounded down the stairs. "Greetings!"

"Took you long enough," Maxie muttered. Spinelli simply smiled in false sweetness at her. "So do you wanna get started?"

"That would be most proficient!"

For the following hour Maxie and Spinelli sat side by side reading information off the laptop. Maxie was taking down notes, and throwing out several questions and theories. Spinelli listened intently, and threw in his own when Maxie paused for breath. Maxie leaned over to point out something in the article he had found on the Internet, and her sleeve rose up once again.

"That looks most painfully purple," Spinelli said.

"Huh?" Maxie asked stupidly. She met Spinelli's gaze which was dark with concern, and he tilted his head in the direction of her arm. "What occurred to wound The Wounded One?"

"Uh, I must've banged it off something," Maxie said vaguely as she pulled down her sleeve again. Her heart felt like it was about to beat out of her chest. The idea of having to explain to Spinelli what had really happened was less than appealing.

"Quite fiercely, though why should injuring yourself be any different from anything you do," Spinelli said with a mischievous grin.

"So, you said there were similar killings going on where?" Maxie asked quickly to change the subject. Spinelli shook his head as if to clear his thoughts and began to recite the information he had gleaned from the police files he had hacked into.

Maxie breathed a deep breath trying to still her racing heart. She was thankful that the moment had passed and no one had to know about the whole whacked out incident. It would never happen again. Forgive and forget, she thought. But her bruise pulsed insistently, not completely forgotten.


	3. Little More Stupid, Little More Scared

**AN: Excuse my absence. I've had the most horrible case of writers block. How did everyone enjoy the harvest? -smiles- **

* * *

Weeks had slid by uneventfully and Maxie had long since forgotten the way that Logan had treated her. In fact, things within those weeks were probably better than they had ever been between the two. He took her out to dinner at this little Italian place she had never heard of, and it distantly reminded her of Lady and The Tramp. Logan held her hand, played with her hair and even massaged her shoulders when she complained of aches.

Maxie had convinced herself that Logan was just an aggressive, hands-on type of guy. He had gotten carried away and that was all. She was a smart girl and smart girls didn't date _bad _guys. So he couldn't be that bad. He was had just gotten carried away. And this was why she was so blindsided on a Thursday night when their fight began brewing like a storm.

"Logan! Open your God damn door!" Maxie shouted without a care towards his neighbors and the fact that it was nearing midnight. "I swear to God Logan that I am not leaving here until you open this damn door!"

There was no answer for a few minutes, but Maxie continued to knock. Her knuckles were beginning to get sore so she switched to pounding on it with the side of her hand. Somewhere she made the connection that it sounded oddly hollow. Then finally, finally she heard footsteps.

"Maxie, darlin', hold on," Logan said through the door as he fumbled with his locks. Maxie noticed that he didn't really sound that angry. The door swung open and Logan was standing there grinning stupidly. "Baby. What do you want at this hour?"

"I just-" Maxie said as she walked by him, stopped and turned to face him. "My God, Logan. Have you been drinking?" Waving her hand daintily in front of her face to rid herself of the overwhelming scent of alcohol.

"Maybe a little. So what's all this about? Booty-call?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at her while shutting the door behind them.

"No, you moron. This is about you not answering your phone."

"Don't call me that," Logan said with a low voice.

"I wouldn't have to if you'd stop acting like one! I mean, you flip out when you can't get a hold of me. And I call you almost all night and nothing! What? Could you not be bothered to answer your phone, moron?" Maxie said narrowing her eyes on the last two words.

Logan closed the gap between them and then shoved Maxie backwards. Unable to catch her balance on the wonderful high-heels she just had to have, she fell backwards. She twisted trying to catch herself, but that only proved to split her lip open on the corner of the coffee table as she went down.

Maxie lied back on the floor with her head pounding, and she felt like she was going to throw up briefly. Stars danced behind her eyelids and her tongue darted out and she tasted the metallic tang of her own blood.

"Oh God, Maxie. I'm sorry. Here let me -"

"Do _not _come near me, Logan," Maxie hissed as she propped herself on her elbows and waited for the room to stop sickly spinning. When it did she stood up slowly and eyed Logan, who looked like he really did want to help her.

Maxie gathered her purse and pulled her jacket tighter around her. She darted her tongue out once again to find she was still bleeding. Logan was standing there, hands up as if to show her that he was no threat and she walked straight past him with a brief _don't call me _as she exited.

Maxie stood a few feet outside of Logan's place with tears burning behind her eyes, sobs clawing up her throat but she swallowed them down. She was not going to cry, not over that stupid sleaze ball. Walking aimlessly, Maxie began to wonder where she could go. She knew she couldn't go home like this because Mac would just be coming home from his shift, and she couldn't go to Robin because she would ask too many questions, and she really only had one true friend. So she changed directions and began walking again.

As she walked she promised herself that it was over between her and Logan. How could she have been so stupid? That was the last time he would ever touch her, she thought. As she stopped to pull her jacket closer she realized she was only a block away from Spinelli's. Maxie fished her cellphone out of her pocket figuring she should call first because Jason could be home and boy, would that would be an awkward situation or what?

Maxie dug her toe into the ground as she listened to the ringing. She waited and waited but there was no answer. Sighing she flipped her phone shut and almost as soon as she did it began ringing.

"Hello?" Maxie asked cautiously, hoping it wasn't Logan. She couldn't deal with him right now.

"Wounded Blond One! My most sincere apologies it took me so long to wake up, and then in my post-blissful state could not seem to retrieve my phone," Spinelli rushed breathlessly.

"It's fine, Spinelli. I'm just glad you called back," Maxie assured him.

"While The Jackal always enjoys talking to The Wounded One, he has to wonder why she'd be calling so late during the night. Is there something wrong? Do you need me to come get you?" In the background Maxie could hear rustling, which she assumed was Spinelli going through his clothes, getting ready.

"No, no, Spinelli. I'm actually..." Maxie stopped. This was a bad idea, she realized. He was so concerned. More concerned than she had though he would be. And if he saw her lip he would have questions, questions she couldn't answer right now.

"You're actually?" Spinelli prompted her when the silence seemed to stretch on. Maxie shook her head pulling herself out of her thoughts.

"I'm actually... sorry I called you so late. Go back to bed, Jackal," Maxie said trying to lighten her voice to it's regular octave. "Goodnig-"

"No! Don't sever the connection, please Maxie? Where are you? At home? It'll only take me a few moments to travel there on foot. Is The Law Enforcing One home? He won't much care for it, would he?"

"Hey, Spinelli. Slow down. You don't have to come to me. I'm fine," Maxie lied. She could feel the tears threatening to fall again and swallowed hard.

"Wounded Blond One, I'm not stupid," Spinelli whispered down the line. "You wouldn't be calling me, of all people, at nearly one in the morning if you were fine. So relay your coordinates, okay?"

"I'm just a block away from your place."

"You walked?!" Spinelli shouted. "Maxie! It's not safe out there!"

"I know. Ok-ay?" Maxie asked, the tears began leaking out and her voice broke. "Please, I know. Ok-kay?"

"Hey," Spinelli said softening his voice. "Hey. Maxie, I'm sorry. The Jackal did not intend to raise his voice. I was just concerned for your safety. Come over. Jason is gone, and it is only I alone here."

"Okay, I'll be right over," Maxie said.

"Stay on the line, okay? Just in case?" Spinelli asked.

Maxie didn't hang up until the arrived at Jason's door. She took a deep breath and waited for Spinelli to open the door. Unconsciously she swiped her tongue against her lip again, the blood was now dry but it felt swollen.

She heard Spinelli bound down the stairs and put a hand to her mouth, wondering if she could leave it there all night. It was glaringly conspicuous what she was trying to do, but it was the best she could think of at the moment.

"Wounded Blond One! Come in!" Spinelli said as he opened the door. Maxie kept her head down and hurried in. She sat down on the couch with her injury facing away from him. "So, what brings you here at this hour?"

Maxie looked over at Spinelli as he sat down next to her and smiled softly, wincing inwardly at the pain it caused. His hair was flat on one side and wildly sticking up on the other. Maxie reached over without thinking and messed the flat side of his hair up.

"Bed head," Maxie explained at his obvious puzzlement. Spinelli stared harder at her and Maxie brought her hand up to her mouth to cover the swollen cut. "What?"

"Why are you covering your mouth like that?" Spinelli said, tilting his head.

"No reason," Maxie said flippantly and took her hand down as she face straight ahead. She knew at this angle he would not be able to see it.

"Maxie, could you please look at The Jackal?"

"I'd rather not," Maxie whispered softly. "This was a mistake, Spin. I'm sorry, I'm going to go."

Spinelli stood and then leaned down in front of her. Maxie was too tired to fight him anymore, she was too tired to fight anyone right now. She met his gaze and Spinelli's dark eyes almost broke her heart.

"What happened, Maxie?" Spinelli asked with his hands on her knees.

"Nothing," Maxie said absently.

"Wounded One, you're quite literally wounded. If it was the killer-"

"What? Oh, this?" Maxie asked bringing her fingers to her lip. "No, no. I just... fell."

"You... fell?" Spinelli questioned unbelievingly.

"Yes. It... my shoes. You know," Maxie said wiggling her feet.

Spinelli got up and sat back down next to her. The silence seemed to stretch on forever, both of them just sitting and thinking. Maxie looked over at Spinelli to find his gaze riveted on her face, and looking down saw his hands were clenched painfully at his sides.

"Spinelli?" Maxie question.

"I-if-if something were going on, if something were happening to you... if something was happening, would you tell me?" Spinelli whispered harshly.

"Of course, Spinelli," Maxie answered.

Spinelli shook his head sadly and the silence began lapping at their ankles again until it was over their heads and they were drowning in it. They sat, facing forward and not touching:

Spinelli – not believing Maxie and Maxie – not believing Spinelli believed her.


	4. Will Not Follow You Into A Perfect Grave

**Author's Note: Yep. New chapter. I love Spixie.**

**Also I'm going to pimp out my Spinelli/Maxie youtube videos : Slow Show and No One's Gonna Love You. I think they're pretty decent.**

* * *

"I'm not going to do this anymore, Logan," Maxie said.

She had been planning the safest way to break things off with him, and she figured Kelly's was far too public for him to try anything. She wasn't sure if he would even try anything. He had been drunk, but that wasn't an excuse. There was no excuse, she firmly told herself.

"Come on, sweetheart. I told you I was sorry. I had too much bourbon, and nothing like that will ever happen again," Logan said in a pleading voice.

"It's over, Logan. We're over. Okay?" Maxie placed her hands on the tabletop and leaned forward slightly to show she meant business.

She heard the tinkle of the bell as the diner door opened, and she looked up to see Spinelli running in with his hands lost inside his bag.

"Greetings Wounded Blond One," he said pulling his hand out to wave at her.

"Not now, you freak," Logan said before Maxie could reply. "We're having a serious discussion. Adults only."

"Then maybe you should stop acting like such a child," Maxie sneered at him.

"Maxie," Logan's voice lowered into a threatening tone. "You know this is a mistake."

Somewhere in the back of her mind Maxie was aware Spinelli was trying avidly not to watch them, but failing miserably. Suddenly now she felt exposed, felt the need to finish this quickly without a scene. Maxie didn't want Spinelli to think there was anything wrong, or to think she couldn't handle Logan on her own.

"No, Logan. The mistake was ever thinking I wanted to be with someone like you," Maxie whispered fiercely. "I told you once, and I'll tell you one last time since you seem to be kind of slow, I'm done with you. Done. Over. Finished."

Maxie stood up and as she went to breeze past Logan and out the door, he grabbed her wrist. His fingers tightened on the bruise that had still yet to heal and she stifled a groan of pain. Worriedly Maxie's eyes sought out Spinelli praying he wasn't watching.

He was.

"Maxie. I'm not finished with you. I'd suggest you sit back down and we can discuss this."

"Logan, let go!" Maxie whisper shouted as she tried to tug herself out of his grasp. Logan's fingers tightened. "Ahh. Logan, stop it."

Suddenly Spinelli appeared by her side. She hadn't even heard him get up from his table, or his feet hit the ground. One minute he had been on the other side of the room, and then he had been next to her. It was as if she conjured him just by thinking his name.

"Is everything okay, Maxie?" Spinelli asked with his eyes on Logan's face. She knew it was a bad sign that he had called her by her actual name. Turning her face to look at Spinelli she was taken aback to see the hatred in his eyes.

Maxie looked at Logan who had a cocky smirk on his face. She got his message loud and clear. He was willing to hurt Spinelli, and if she didn't get rid of him then he would. Logan's fingers left Maxie's wrist and he crossed his arms against his chest, then finally he raised an eyebrow at her as if asking her what it would be.

"Yeah, Spinelli. Everything is okay," Maxie turned to assure him. Spinelli's eyes searched hers intently, as if willing her to tell the truth, to tell him what was really going on. Maxie blinked slowly trying to guard her thoughts. "You know how it can get. Young love."

"Yeah, Spinelli. Young love," Logan said with a smile.

"Wounded Blond One, can The Jackal speak to you alone for just a moment?" Maxie looked at Logan who shrugged. He knew she knew what would happen if she said anything.

"Of course, Spinelli. I'll be right back Logan," she said. Spinelli walked outside with Maxie trailing him, she threw Logan a cold glare over her shoulder on the way out.

Maxie sucked in a breath at the cold air and the way it stung her lungs and nose. She looked up at Spinelli who was pacing thoroughly upset. He was constantly moving as if restraining himself, as if he was caged.

"So?" Maxie said to break the tension. "Did you find something on our case?"

"Show me your wrist," Spinelli demanded as he stopped awkwardly in front of her.

"What?" Maxie asked with a fake laugh.

"Your wrist. The wrist that The Unworthy One grabbed," Spinelli said motioning to her arm.

"You're being ridiculous, Spinelli. Did you actually have something to tell me?"

"You cried out. He hurt you. I watched him wound you, _Wounded One. _Please. Show me."

"Spinelli, I'm fine. I was just angry."

"The Jackal knows what you're angry exasperations sound like," Spinelli said pulling frustrated on his beanie. "Please, The Jackal is begging you, let me help."

"Spinelli, I don't know what your crazy imagination has cooking up, but Logan and I – we're just both very... passionate people," Maxie said almost wincing in distaste at the words in her mouth. "And sometimes we get carried away. He wasn't hurting me. I wouldn't let him."

"But --"

"Come on, Spinelli. I'm not stupid," Maxie said angrily.

"Blond One --"

"I have to go back, Spinelli. Logan is waiting on me," she said as she turned around.

"Please, Maxie," Spinelli said desperately. Maxie stopped at the sound of his voice, but didn't turn around. "Don't."

At that Maxie swung the door open and sat back down with Logan. She looked up once more to find Spinelli gazing back at her through the frosted window with heartbroken eyes. Maxie knew she had lost a friend at that moment.

She was stupid.


	5. Heal My Heartache

**Author's Note : So I just wanted to thank all the people who are reading and reviewing this. I really do appreciate it. I'm aware the characters are a little OOC, but you're all hanging on anyways. So, many thanks! :)  
**

Maxie sat alone at Kelly's with her chin cupped in her hand. The sky was a cold gray and that suited her just fine. She wasn't exactly cheery today. She had meant to break up with Logan, she had meant to end things, but somehow it had all got mucked up. It was as if Maxie was back where she had started.

Sighing, she tore a corner off her muffin and set it on her plate. She wasn't even hungry. Though it appeared she was staring at the morsel, she was really looking past it. Maxie was completely zoned out and drained. How had she gotten herself into this mess, and how was she supposed to get herself out of it?

Maxie knew now what Logan was, and she knew no matter how much time spread between his violent outbursts that they would never stop. She would always be waiting, wondering, worrying. Things would never be different, he would never change. Rubbing her fingers against her temples she fought off the headache that was now building.

Out of the corner of Maxie's eye she spotted Spinelli walking up to the diner. It had been three days since he had begged her to let him help, and in those three days she had not seen or spoke to him. It was weird because they had gotten pretty close, and a day didn't go by that he didn't call her or seek her out to tell her something new about the case.

Spinelli swung the door open and then stopped in his tracks staring at Maxie. He must not have noticed her through the windows. In fact, Spinelli seemed pretty absorbed in something. Usually Maxie would've asked him what was going on, or at the very least said hello, but she had broke that fragile trust between them. She had drawn a line in the sand, and she understood that.

Gathering her jacket and purse she stood up as Spinelli continued to stare dumbly, blocking the entrance. Maxie walked up to him and muttered a brief _excuse me._ However Spinelli could not seem to force his body to comply with the request, so Maxie pushed past him and walked outside. Maxie got a block away before she started hearing him shouting her name.

"Maximista! Could you cease for a moment? The Jackal needs a word with you!" Maxie turned to see Spinelli jogging up the sidewalk to her somewhat frantically. He stopped in front of her and took a moment to catch his breath. "Thank you."

"Yeah," Maxie said unsure.

"You see, The Jackal has had a lot of time to consider the situation. To look at it from all angles and take it apart and reconstruct it. But Wounded One, I always arrive at the same conclusion."

"I'm afraid you lost me," Maxie said brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes.

"I'm afraid I have too," Spinelli said sadly. "Maximista, I'm your friend."

"Tell me something I don't know, Spin," Maxie told him. She watched the brief flutter of his lips as he smiled at the hardly original nickname she used for him.

"Then you should know that The Jackal only wants what's best for you, and that he respects you and holds you in only the highest regards. I want to help --"

"Spinelli, I told you --"

"Please, The Jackal would rather you remain silent than lie," Spinelli said softly. Maxie shut her mouth and waited for him to continue. "Whatever is truly going on, which The Jackal is sure he has an idea of, I only wish to help."

"I don't need your help, Spinelli," Maxie told him. She hadn't meant to sound cold, but her words came out in that light all the same. "I don't need anyones help. I'm fine."

"Maxie, please," Spinelli said as he grabbed onto her hand and squeezed gently. "I need you to talk to me. _You _need to talk to me."

Maxie shook her head, which resulted in Spinelli shaking his head sadly back at her. It hurt to look into his eyes because the concern for her in them was overwhelming, and she knew she didn't deserve it. She had done nothing to deserve someone like Spinelli.

"When you're ready to talk to me you can come to Stone Cold's, or call my cellular device. I will always, always answer."

"I --"

"You don't have to say anything, Maximista. The Jackal is just making sure you know that he is there for you, no matter the circumstances."

"That's sweet, Spinelli," Maxie said as she turned to walk away.

"And Maxie?" Spinelli called to her back.

"Yeah?"

"Don't be a stranger. I've missed you."

At that Maxie spun around to face him, and for the first time in the longest time that he could remembered, she truly smiled.


	6. I'm Getting Down Too Low

**Author's Note: Thinking about doing a POV change for the upcoming chapters...  
**

* * *

Trapped.

_Logan's lips pressed too hard against her own, his teeth gnashing the soft skin. Pulling, tearing. Blood. Maxie's hands on his shoulders, the word 'no' once against his cheek and then lost in her throat. His hands. Large, unmerciful, bruising, taking. Her hips squeezed against the kitchen counter of his apartment, her shoulders hunched trying to disappear. His fingertips pressing at the base of her neck insistently. She gave him everything, but still he wanted more. Broken blood vessels and tears.  
_  
Trapped.

_The cold bed sheet twisted around her calves like a snake. His jaw unshaven and clenched. She shakes her head once, twice. Her shirt lifts revealing her skin and shame crawls up her spine with it's terrible claws. He kisses her shoulder, bites it. How did she get here? Why did she come? His chest pressing her deep down into the mattress.  
_  
Trapped.

_He was inside of her, somewhere she could not wash him out. Logan's breathing echoed like the sound of her heartbeat. Rage, hot and white flashes inside her. She scratches her nails down his face and smiles briefly at the torn skin. He hits her once, twice across the face. She stills. He finishes and she doesn't dare move until it's long, long into the wee hours of the morning._Trapped and trembling Maxie walked the streets. This feeling wouldn't leave her. She was trapped, but free. The roads stretched ahead of her, beckoning her to disappear, to just cease to exist in this town. But Mac's face flashed through her mind, and she knew she couldn't leave him here. Not after Georgie.

Checking her watch Maxie notices it is four in the morning. She wonders how long she lied there before she gathered the courage to get dressed and sneak out. And now she wonders where she can go. She cannot go home, not like this, not while she was barely holding it together. Not when she could barely put one foot in front of another.

Telling herself to walk just a bit further she arrived at the docks and sat down gratefully on the bench. Every part of her body hurt. Everything hurt, but this pain was deeper than tears. She looked out at the water as it lapped lazily in and out. Broken she pulled out her cell phone knowing what she had to do, but hating the fact of it.

"You've reached the answering services of The Jackal himself. Congratulations," Spinelli's voice said laughingly into her ear. "If you wish, leave a message and I will most diligently dial your digits in the foreseeable future."

Sighing, Maxie flipped the phone shut and waited. She knew Spinelli would call her back, it was just a matter of how long it took him to find his cell phone. Getting up she paced the dock back and forth. Ten minutes had passed and still there was no answer.

She called again, but this time he answered of the fifth ring.

"Mrph. Stop disturbing The Jackal in his natural state of slumber," Spinelli murmured sleepily.

"I'm sorry, Spinelli," Maxie said.

"Wounded One?" Spinelli said sounding amazingly alert to when he had first answered.

"I'm sorry to call this late, or early."

"What's amiss?"

"I need to come over. Is that okay?" Maxie asked chewing on her thumbnail.

"Most certainly. I shall call a cab for you at your domain," Spinelli said hurriedly.

"Uh – I'm not at home," Maxie said shaking her head lightly.

"Then where is The Wounded One?" Spinelli asked in a tight voice knowing she was probably out wandering the town, again, with a killer loose.

"I'm at the docks. And don't, Spinelli. Don't lecture me about safety right now. Please," Maxie begged.

"The Jackal will come get you," Spinelli said.

"Spinelli, I've already woken you up. You don't need to come out into the cold. It's only a few minutes. I'll be right there," Maxie said as she hung up the phone.

Maxie forced herself to start walking again, clutching at her ribs which now felt sore. Cursing softly she tried to pick up her pace, but still found herself moving with the speed of an elderly person. After she made it down a block, she noticed a figure in the dark. Stalling, she rocked back on her heels and wondered if it was safe or if she should hide.

"Maximista! It is only I, The Jackal!"

Maxie squinted and now she could see that it was indeed Spinelli running up to her. Her head spun a little wondering how he got here this fast, knowing he must have ran the whole way. Looking down at herself quickly she tried to assess the damage of what he was about to see. Her shirt was torn a little, bruises were up and down her body, but thankfully all of that was covered with her jacket. Unfortunately, her slightly bruised lips and cheeks were still visible, as were here swollen and hollow eyes.

Spinelli skidded to a stop in front of her and Maxie looked down at her shoes, then back up at him. His eyes saw too much, and she felt too exposed. Too raw. Tears burned at the back of her eyes.

"I'm really sorry, Spinelli."

"Maxie, w-what happened?" Spinelli stuttered, his voice lost and broken like a little boys. He knew. He had to know, and he was just waiting for her to tell him it was true.

"I'm sorry," she repeated, the tears now slipping down her swollen cheekbones. "I need..."

"Anything," Spinelli promised her when she seemed unable to continue.

"I need you to take me home," Maxie said. Neither commented on the fact that he wasn't taking her to her home, but his.

He cautiously slipped an arm around her waist and Maxie pulled back quickly. Her breathing picked up and for a moment she could see Logan above her grunting, sweat dripping into his eyes. She shook her head wildly trying to erase the memories, and distantly she could hear someone talking to her. Where was she? Why was everything so far away? Blinking she tried to focus.

"--abject apologies. You looked as though you were having difficulty walking. I only meant to assist you. I would never harm you, Maxie. I would sooner harm myself. I swear --"

Spinelli? Why was Spinelli here? Then suddenly it all came rushing back to her. She had called him, she need somewhere to go. She had called him and he came to get her. It was Spinelli.

"I'm sorry," Maxie said. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't apologize. It was The Jackal's fault, he was most stupidly not thinking correctly."

Maxie shook her head again but couldn't bring herself to say anything else. They walked slowly together to Jason's apartment, Spinelli hovering just close enough to catch her if she were to stumble, but far enough to give her space.

He was fumbling with his keys when Maxie noticed his hands were shaking. The cold? Finally the door swung open and he moved to let her in.

"Jason's not home," Spinelli told her. "Can I get you anything? Anything at all?"

Maxie took her jacket off and let it fall onto the chair. She didn't care what Spinelli saw or thought. She was so lost inside herself, inside the memories, inside the sound of Logan's breathing.

"Maximista... your shirt is..." Spinelli softly said.

"I need to take a shower," Maxie said hollowly.

"O-of course. Of course, Maximista," Spinelli walked her upstairs. Once at the bathroom he ran the water for her, showed her were everything was and left her alone. Maxie stood shattered under the stream of hot water knowing she would never come clean.

The sobs she had held back now burst free almost choking her. She cried with all her heart unaware of the boy outside the door with his hands pressed fiercely into his eyes doing the same.


	7. You're Not Alone

**Author's Note: So, I wasn't planning for the Maxie/Logan drama to go this far. The story seems to have a mind of it's own these days. This chapter and probably the chapters after will be Spinelli's POV. And once more, thank you to all my reviewers. Y'all rock.**

Spinelli paced back and forth in the hallway internally raging. Her face, her shirt, her skin – her eyes. He turned again and started over. Her face, her shirt, her skin – her eyes. His fists were clenched so tightly it hurt. Spinelli was a lover, not a fighter, but never in his life had he so desired to hit something. Someone. _Logan_.

The water running noisily down the hall could not drown out the sound of his own racing heartbeat. Someone had hurt Maxie, Maximista, his friend, the object of his unwavering yet tragically unknown affection. And where had he been? Asleep, lost in a dream of her, lost to her when she needed him. He was a failure.

He had known something bad was happening with Logan. Spinelli had seen the bruises, the slight tension in her shoulders when he would walk by, the unnatural fear and stillness in her eyes. But he had done nothing. Spinelli hadn't forced the subject, he had only let Maxie know he was there for her, when he should've been making her tell him, or killing Logan. God, he'd love to kill Logan, but Maxie was all that mattered now.

"Maximista?" Spinelli called as he knocked lightly on the bathroom door. She had been in there a long time. "Maximista, The Jackal is worried."

"J-just a minute," Maxie called back. Spinelli could tell she was crying. He heard the water turn off and sunk down onto the hallway floor waiting for her to emerge.

Ten minutes later the door opened and Spinelli hurriedly stood. Maxie lingered awkwardly in the doorway as Spinelli stared helplessly at her. She had bruises on her face, on her arms, and probably a few places he couldn't see. She looked so small and childlike in his plaid pajama pants and orange t-shirt.

"Sorry I took so long," Maxie offered softly.

"It's of no concern. I was only worried about you," Spinelli said moving to the side to let her pass.

He was surprised when she went into The Regrettably Pink Room instead of the living room. She probably didn't want to be anywhere that Jason, or anyone else could walk in on her like this. He watched as she grabbed her ribs and grimaced as she curled up on his unmade bed. Spinelli sat on his computer chair, unsure of how comfortable she was with him being there.

Time seemed to drag on and on as the silence hanging between them got heavier and heavier. Spinelli was mentally sorting through half-cooked phrases trying to figure out what to say to her, as Maxie was picking at the dark purple nail polish she had on.

"Maxie --" Spinelli started and stopped unsure. Maxie's head jerked up to look at him. "Maxie, The Jackal does not mean to push, or to pry while you are so obviously in a state of distress, but he cannot help but wonder what exactly has happened..."

"I don't think I can --"

"Maximista, I'm your friend. You trust me. I cannot help if you do not tell me what subject matter I am dealing with. I am most afraid for you, and need to know what happened. Please?"

"Logan," Maxie whispered.

Spinelli's stomach churned. He was right – it was Logan. Of course it was Logan. Lowly Logan. Spinelli's fingernails cut into his palm. Later he would have a word with Logan.

"What did he do, Maxie?" Spinelli whispered harshly.

"Just – it was just – Logan," Maxie said as a tear trailed down her cheek. Spinelli's heart broke and his arms physically ached to wrap her up, keep her safe.

"Did he ...?" Spinelli trailed off unsure of whether or not using the word _rape _was the best idea at this moment. Maxie almost imperceptibly nodded. "Oh, Sweet Maxie. The Jackal – I am so, so sorry."

Maxie started to cry harder, her shoulders shaking violently. Spinelli sat helpless wanting to hold her but remembering trying to put his arm around her waist and how she had recoiled. She continued to cry and cry, her sobs wracking her body, and choking on her breath. Spinelli had never seen someone break down this completely.

"Maxie? Maxie?" Spinelli said trying to get her attention. Nothing. "Sweet Maxie? Would it be okay if I were to – hug you? I understand if you do not want to be touched right now, especially by someone of the male persuasion. But I hope you know I would never hurt you, I only wish to anchor you."

Maxie nodded slightly and scooted over to make room for Spinelli. He crawled slowly next to her and sat. Cautiously he brought his arm up and Maxie slowly crawled under it. Her one tiny hand clutched at the front of his shirt and he looked down to see her eyes clenched tightly.

"Oh Maxie Mine," Spinelli muttered running his hand ghostly over her back. She didn't flinch at the contact so he more firmly rubbed her back. He could feel her blond hair tickling his nose and pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head. "Maxie Mine, we will fix this. I will fix this, I promise. I promise. I promise we'll get you through this."

Spinelli continued to whisper to her as slowly, slowly, slowly her body dropped off into the realm of dreamless sleep. Her breath huffed out like a child who had cried themselves to sleep, which was almost exactly what happened. Except she wasn't a child, she was a woman. A beautiful, lovely woman who had been most unfairly broken.

"I won't let him hurt you again, Maxie. I swear," he said and felt Maxie move closer to him in her sleep. "I love you, and we'll get through this. You're not alone."


	8. Big Fat Fucking Bone To Pick With You

**Authors Note: Not my best chapter ever. Forgive me? **

"Spinelli," someone was calling his name past the darkness.

"No. That's _my _laptop, minion of evil," Spinelli muttered into the pillow trying to sink back into the dreams. Suddenly he was being shaken. Earthquake? Frowning he tried to sleepily recall the procedure for earthquakes.

"Damian Spinelli!"

Sitting straight up Spinelli looked wildly around the room, fearing his Grams was lurking somewhere. His eyes finally settled on the Broken Blond One. She was dressed in her old clothes, jacket tied tightly and purse in hand.

"Maximista. Greetings," Spinelli said awkwardly rubbing sleep out of his eyes. Maxie shifted her feet uncomfortably, refusing to meet his gaze.

"I have to go, Spin," Maxie said gesturing towards the bedroom door.

"Are – are you certain you must depart? After last night -" Spinelli stopped abruptly as Maxie's hand shot out signaling silence.

"Last night was a mistake. What you and I have here is a giant misunderstanding. I'm fine and _nothing _happened. Got it?"

"Maximista. Maxie, you can't possibly think that I would believe that. I saw you Maxie. I held you while you cried," Spinelli said scrambling to stand up. "I saw the bruises, Maxie."

"Nothing happened," Maxie said jabbing a finger into his chest. "Logan got a little out of hand, but he's my boyfriend."

"No! No, Lowly Logan is not-"

"He. Is. My. Boyfriend." Maxie said slowly, her eyes daring him to disagree with her again. "Now I have to go, Spinelli. I'm sorry about last night. I don't know what came over me." With a forced laugh she bounced out of his room and Spinelli was left alone.

Sinking back down onto the bed he pressed the heel of his hand into his eyes until colors exploded behind his lids. What was he supposed to do now? He knew Logan had r-r-rap – taken advantage of the delicate Maxie. And now what?

Maxie was denying anything had happened. A little out of hand? He clenched his jaw until it began to ache. She was still calling him her boyfriend. Was she going to go back to him? Why? Why would she ever go back to him? Spinelli's eyes were watering annoyingly, and he swiped frustrated at them.

Going downstairs he made himself a cup of coffee, which he didn't enjoy drinking but it seemed like the perfect time to start. Leaning against the counter he titled his head and replayed last night, his hand tightening dangerously against the handle of the mug.

"Morning, Spinelli." Spinelli blinked. He must have been so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even see or hear Jason come in. Spinelli nodded silently in Jason's general direction. "You look like crap."

"It's nothing compared to the current state of The Jackal's heart," Spinelli said morosely.

"What happened?" Jason asked in an even voice

"C-can The Grasshopper speak freely, assured you will keep this news to yourself?"

"Yeah," Jason replied.

"Do you solemnly swear?"

"Do you want to get a bible?" Jason asked shortly narrowing his eyes.

"Do you even own a bible?" Jason rolled his eyes. "Okay, not the point. The Lowly Logan has been hurting Maximista."

"Maximista is Maxie, right?" When Spinelli nodded Jason continued. "Hurting her how? Has he been making more bets?"

"No. Stone Cold, he's been _hurting _her," Spinelli said trying to convey with his eyes what he meant.

"What?" Jason asked having gone eerily still.

"At first it was just a few bruises, although any are too many. I didn't know, I swear. I didn't know," Spinelli said as if he was pleading Jason to believe him. "Then I thought he was, but she wouldn't talk to me. I didn't know what to do except let her know she could come to me whenever she needed to, whenever she was ready."

"That's all you could've done, Spinelli. It was the right thing to do," Jason said catching his gaze.

"Last night, well, in the early hours of the morning my cellular device beckoned me from my dreams. It was Maximista. She needed help, she was asking to come over so I went to her aid. But – but I was far too late," Spinelli shook his head.

"He raped her?" Jason asked bluntly. Part of Spinelli rebelled at the use of that phrase with Maxie. It wasn't right. It just wasn't.

"He- he- yes. And this morning she was pretending nothing was happening. She told me he was her boyfriend and she left. I don't understand why she would do this."

"Maybe because if she says he's her boyfriend, then it only seems like things got out of hand and she won't have to accept the fact that he raped her."

"As always, Stone Cold's wisdom is unfaltering," Spinelli said sitting down the cup.

"So," Jason said as he placed his hands on Spinelli shoulders, his blue eyes gone hard and cold. "What are we going to do about Logan?"


	9. TalkTalking A Lot, But It's Still Talk

**Author's Note: Sorry it's so short. I just had this tiny scene stuck in my head and had to get it down before I lost it. More, a lot more soon. And as always, 100 thanks to all of you who take the time to review. You rock!**

"Stone Cold, uh, while The Jackal has the utmost respect for you and while I would never wish to question your undeniable wisdom – I feel a little bit silly."

Spinelli glanced over his shoulder at Jason standing behind him. They had moved all the furniture out of the way and were standing in the middle of the living room area. Spinelli raked his eyes over the eerily realistic plastic man. What had ever happened to old fashioned punching bags?

"You want to be able to show Logan he can't mess with Maxie anymore? You want him to take you seriously?"

"Indubitably," Spinelli muttered darkly. "I just don't see how Plastic Peeping Peter is going to help me accomplish that."

"You have to learn how to fight, just like you had to learn how to hack into websites. Nothing comes naturally. Everything takes some amount of work. Fighting doesn't come naturally for you, so you'll have to try twice as hard as someone like-"

"Logan," Spinelli almost growled the name. His hand shot out and smacked the creepy dummy with it's dead eyes.

"Okay, that's a good start. Anger is good. Now this time don't bitch slap him," Jason said solemnly. "You punch. Show me."

He punched the dummy a few times, no longer feeling quite as silly. In fact, it felt pretty good to pummel something other than computer keys.

"How was that?" Spinelli asked somewhat breathlessly.

"Pretty good. A few tips – don't stick your thumb inside your fist. There's a good chance you'll break it. Secondly, really put your weight into your punches."

"More bang for your buck," Spinelli said softly.

"In cases like this I would suggest more bang, but you seemed to be pretty opposed to using guns," Jason said. Spinelli had remember Jason suggesting something of a much more permanent solution to this problem. He had been surprised Jason had cared so much about the problems of his fair Maximista. "Keep going. I'll show you a few tricks."

Over the next few hours Jason showed Spinelli the best moves and counter moves when fighting someone who was – perhaps – bigger than you. Jason showed him the easiest way to take someone down, how to break a nose without hurting your hand too badly, and even had a few tips for focusing your rage.

Rage, Spinelli mentally mused. That was a word he didn't use very often. Spinelli was not the rage kind. Maybe angry, a little, sometimes. But rage was different. It was encompassing, consuming, and blinding.

Finally feeling confident in his abilities to face Logan he swiped a hunk of sweaty hair out of his face. Jason stood silently by, watching Spinelli offering the support only Stone Cold could with a simple nod.

Rushing out the door Spinelli roamed the streets until he finally found Logan down by the docks drinking his coffee, smug smirk on his face. Suddenly all the rage Spinelli thought he had was simply anger, and he knew what true rage was.

"Hey Spinelli. If you're looking for Maxie, she's late. Again," Logan said with a roll of his eyes.

Spinelli didn't feel his feet move but next thing he knew he was standing toe to toe with Logan Hayes and not the least bit afraid. Oh no, not afraid at all. Spinelli shoved a finger into his chest and glared into his eyes.

"You and I need to have a little talk, Logan."


	10. This Time Somebody's Getting Hurt

"Whoa, little man. I think you've forgotten who you're poking at," Logan sneered as he brushed Spinelli's hand off his chest.

"No, you listen, you – you know, there's no nickname vile enough that I could possibly conjure for someone like you."

Spinelli took a swing and his fist connected solidly with Logan's jaw. Spinelli was surprised his digits weren't protesting loudly with pain, however he didn't have time to think about it as Logan shoved him a step backward.

"Listen, you twerp, I'll give you that shot free because my girlfriend seems to have some strange attachment to you. The next time though, you won't be so lucky."

"Excuse me? Your _girlfriend_? She is not your girlfriend. You – you violated her person!" Spinelli said shoving Logan backwards hard.

"Violated Maxie? Oh, come on. Is that even possible. Everyone in Port Charles knows what she is," Logan sneered and then chuckled under his breath.

"You shut up, you cretin, or I swear you'll regret it!" Spinelli's hand ached, but not from hitting him. It ached to hit him again, and Spinelli wasn't sure how much longer he could deny the urge.

"Come on, Spinelli. I know you two are friends, but you have to see that she's nothing but a whor-" Logan never got to finish the word as Spinelli's fist shot out and split his lip open. Distantly in the back of his mind he was glad Jason had told him not to put his thumb in his fist. Logan's stupid face was a lot hard that Plastic Peeping Peter's had been.

Logan came charging at Spinelli, his face red with anger. Spinelli managed to dodge the first swing, but Logan's fist connected solidly with his eye. Spinelli felt a twinge of extreme discomfort, a flash of white pain and then he was back on his feet.

"Wow, man. I'm really impressed. Looks like you've finally learned how to take a punch," Logan mocked as he circled around Spinelli. Logan went to hit him again, but Spinelli ducked once more, never more grateful in his life for his exuberant amounts of nervous energy than now.

Remembering Stone Cold's words of sage advice Spinelli angled his fist just so and punched Logan in the nose. He felt the satisfying crunch of bone giving way beneath his fingers, and had to contain the dance of joy he felt building at Logan's less than manly howls of pain.

Spinelli looked at Logan who was on his knees trying to stop the blood that was flowing freely from his now ravaged nose. He didn't understand anymore why he had once been so afraid of him. Sure, he hit hard but he was about as fast as a moose. And besides, what good is all the brute Neanderthal force if you were only swinging at air?

"While I've got your avid attention, Lowly Logan, I thought I should lay down some ground rules."

"Spinelli, I swear to God --" Logan growled.

"You stay away from Maximista. Do you hear me? You do not breach the vicinity surrounding her. Don't go near her. I can't think of any simpler ways to put it for someone of your mental capacity."

Spinelli turned to go and saw that Logan was now up, and was coming towards him once more. Wanting to cause more damage, but knowing he really shouldn't, Spinelli waited until Logan was close enough to give him a good shove into the cold, black water.

Turning on his heels, he couldn't help but to grin at the sounds of Loathed Logan's enraged screams. Stone Cold was right. You needed to know when to walk away. Almost skipping, Spinelli decided it was time for a celebratory orange soda at Kelly's, and perhaps some ice for his eye.


	11. I'll Believe In Anything

Jason stalked his apartment frustrated as he waited. He was either doing something good, or poking his nose somewhere it really didn't belong. He couldn't stand to be silent though. Finally he heard a knock on his apartment door and got up from the couch sighing.

"Hey Maxie. Thanks for coming," Jason said quietly as he opened the door wider to let her in.

"Yeah," Maxie said suspiciously eyeing him. "You said you need to talk to me about Spinelli?"

"Right," Jason said non-committal tone. He noticed the way Maxie's one arm subtly clenched at her ribs. "Do you want to sit down first?"

Maxie didn't reply, instead she made her way slowly and silently over to the couch. Once she was seated Jason followed suit, leaving a cushion in between them, a cautious space.

"So?" Maxie prompted, looking a little uncomfortable in the silence.

"My sister Emily," Jason began taking a deep breath as he ran his hand over his eyes and then turned to look at Maxie. "My sister Emily was raped a long time ago."

"I-I don't know what this has to do with me," Maxie said bristling. Her shoulders straightened, her eyes flashed a cold, ice blue as she full well felt the implication of similarities.

"Spinelli confided in me that you and Logan were having some problems, and that it was even getting physical. I don't know how far it went," Jason lied, "but Emily was a good, beautiful person and she did not deserve what happened to her. Her life did not deserve something that horrible. Even if someone were only to lift a hand to her, she wouldn't have deserved it."

"Emily and I... we're different," Maxie said looking away.

"No one deserves that, Maxie. You don't deserve to be hurt. And you don't have to tell me what happened, whether Spinelli is right or not, it's none of my business. I'm here to tell you though that if he is right that you need to let him in. You need to let someone in. You won't come out through the other side alone."

"I can't believe Spinelli would tell you such a complete lie," Maxie whispered as she rubbed her temples fiercely.

"Spinelli trusts me, and I would never betray that. Like I said, I don't know what happened. I only know what Spinelli suspected and I was concerned for you," Jason said truthfully. He didn't know how it happened or why, but he seemed to collect the young adults with problems. Spinelli, Johnny, Lulu, and now Maxie. He cared about them all.

"You hate me," Maxie muttered. "You certainly made no secret of it."

"Maxie, how could I hate someone Spinelli cares about? You know Spinelli, if he sees something good then it's there," Jason said as he shrugged his broad shoulders.

"Please don't tell anyone about what Spinelli thinks. I need to have a talk with him," Maxie said a little desperately.

"I already promised Spinelli I wouldn't say a word to anyone else, and I won't Maxie. But you need to take care of yourself, and if you can't do it for you then you need to do it for Spinelli."

Maxie opened her mouth, shut it, opened it once more and found herself completely out of words. Jason studied her face, a few shimmers of bruises playing through her cheekbone and wished that she trusted Spinelli enough to let him help, or even trusted anyone enough.

"Well, thank you for letting me know. And thank you for your concern – however misplaced," Maxie said as she got to her feet, grabbing her purse up.

"Maxie, if you ever need anything you can trust Spinelli... and you can trust me," Jason said cautiously. "We both take care of what matters to us, even if we go about it in different ways."

Maxie nodded as she threw her jacket back on, trying not to wince at the fire that licked up her ribcage at the movement. Before she could reach the door though it swung open and a grinning Spinelli twirled into the room, not noticing her at all.

"Stone Cold! It was the pinnacle of awesomeness, you should've been there. The Jackal just --"

"Spinelli, look who's here," Jason cut in quickly and helpfully.

"Maximista!" Spinelli said as he came to an abrupt stop. "How – uh, how are you?"

"What happened to you? Are you okay?" Maxie said hurrying over to Spinelli. "Your eye looks terrible!"

"Oh, uh-" Spinelli stuttered, looking at Jason desperately for assistance.

"It looks like you two need to talk, and I have to go meet Sonny to go over some business," Jason said unhelpfully. Grabbing his leather jacket he left the apartment quickly.

And finally they were alone again, the person each needed to talk to desperately, but was completely clueless as to how.


	12. Trust Me, Trust Nobody

_This chapter is dedicated to na whose comment got my butt in gear with this story. I forgot how much I enjoyed it! _

Spinelli turned to shut the door, and though it was done quietly, the noise echoed in the oppressive silence like a firearm going off in a church. With the nervous energy he had previously thanked all and any God's who would listen for, he pushed back a dark hank of hair from his face and looked at Maxie standing there, small and broken like some sort of sickly violet that had bloomed in the shade.

"Let me… let me get some ice for your eye," Maxie said softly, surprising him by being the first to talk.

Without waiting for a word from him she turned and made her way into the kitchen. Spinelli willed his feet to move but couldn't seem to follow her, his brain racing past warp-speed to some new, undefined dimension. He heard the freezer being opened, then the cupboard, then the song of ice being removed from its cheap plastic confines.

Still, he had no idea what to say to the Broken Blond One. Did he tell her that she was safe now? That he could protect her fragility and beauty? Did he tell her not to be so anxious, that he knew it was all too late, but it would never, never, never happen again – not as long as he lived to breathe?

Maxie came shuffling out and it was painful for him to watch, not only because of his grotesquely swelling eye, but the way he could almost hear her bones screaming. She stopped cautiously a few feet in front of him, the ice held in a kitchen cloth, and she took a moment to study him – as if unsure whether or not she could trust him and the thought made Spinelli's heart ache worse than his eye.

She gaped the bridge between them both suddenly and after forever, three tiny steps towards him and lifted her tiny hand to press the ice gently against his eye. Spinelli hissed through his teeth and unthinkingly reached his hand up to take the ice from her – their skin brushed – Maxie immediately dropped the cloth, the ice crashing against the floor and retreated more steps than it had taken her to get to him.

"Maximista – Maxie," Spinelli finally spoke. "The Jackal only meant to take the cloth from you so your lovely digits would not take a chill."

But Maximista, his Maxie, wasn't listening to him, wasn't here. Instead he was faced with the shell of what Logan had so carelessly made her.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was all over with just one accidental touch. The brave front, the face she had been putting on so well for everyone as they stared at her with questioning eyes. Just like that, it all broke away as she sunk to the floor, her back against the side of the couch.

One minute she was pressing ice to Spinelli's injured eye and the next her mind insisted it was Logan again, his beefy hands holding hers down into the mattress. She could smell the bourbon and aftershave and sweat – she could smell it on her skin, in her hair. He was grunting softly – a sick, twisted sound of pleasure in her ear and all she wanted to do was die.

It went on for what seemed like years. The painful thrusting, his touch along her skin, leaving pathways of perceptible dirt. And she tried to ignore it, she tried to go somewhere else, somewhere far away inside of her. She couldn't. Every detail was right there, in front of her, being memorized as the clock ticked somewhere in the background.

"Maxie," Logan moaned above her.

"Maxie," Logan whispered in her ear, breath hot and rank.

"Maxie," Logan…?

"Maximista," a voice broke through – soft, concerned, comforting – safe.

"Maximista, it's I, the Jackal," the voice told her. Spinelli. It was Spinelli. What was Spinelli doing here at Logan's? He couldn't see her like this, she thought wildly. But as soon as her eyelids fluttered open she realized she was not at Logan's at all, but the penthouse.

"I'm sorry, Spinelli," Maxie said in a soft voice.

"Maximista, are you okay?" Spinelli asked her, crouched down in front of her. She could see his hands fisting by his sides, and she tried to convince herself it was not out of anger – and failed.

"I'm sorry, Spin. Please don't," she whimpered. Some part of herself loathed the sound of it, some old part of herself she could barely hear anymore, that seemed to be fading away with every second.

"Don't? Don't what? I'm afraid the Jackal doesn't quite comprehend?"

"Please don't hurt me. I didn't mean to, I swear," she promised as the tears started to rain down her face.

"M-maximista. Maxie… Maxie, I could never… I would never hurt you. Never…" Spinelli said, his voice full of tears he wouldn't allow himself to cry and awe – awe that she would ever think that of him. And she knew he was right, but she was still afraid as she watched his fists tighten even more – the knuckles turning white.

Hurriedly she stood and bolted towards the door, not even caring that she was leaving her purse there, and without so much as a goodbye she was gone, leaving the door open behind her. All she could think of was getting away, far, far away – somewhere she could lie by herself behind a locked door.

But even then she still did not feel safe.

Spinelli ran to the door, stuck his head out, but saw she had vanished – he then figured it would probably not be wise to follow her when she was so clearly afraid of him. Shutting the door he turned to head to his room, the tears now dancing down his cheeks, turned suddenly and threw his fist into the hard wood. The crunch of bone, the now obviously broken knuckle or two, did absolutely nothing to still the anger, pain, and sorrow in him.


	13. I Wonder When Pretty's Gonna Break

Spinelli sat awake in his room later that night, replaying the short but horrifying encounter with the Broken Blond One. He couldn't get it out of his head – a soft brush of fingers and she was sent into a realm that he could barely draw her out of. And worse than that, Lowly Logan – Vile, Evil Logan had her so completely turned around and lost that she thought he, of all people, would hurt her.

All he wanted to do was gather her delicate self in his arms and heal all wounds inflicted. Dully he felt his eye throb and it didn't bother him, in fact, he tried to concentrate on it – tried to make the pain worse by driving the heel of his palm into the bruised skin. It didn't work. Nothing, absolutely nothing in this world could take his mind away from his beautiful friend.

Picking up his cellphone from the nightstand he dialed her number. Maybe she would talk to him if it was on the phone, where she was safe in bed, and could hang up whenever she pleased. The phone continued to ring and ring and it grew crystal clear in clarity that she did not plan on answering. Suddenly her voice filled his ear, causing his body to jerk.

"Hi! It's Maxie, and I'm doing something more important than answering my phone. Leave one!"

She sounded so cheerful in the message, her voice full with suppressed laughter and light. Would he ever hear that again without dialing her number and getting her voicemail? It was then he realized he had been sitting silently for a few seconds without speaking. He coughed awkwardly.

"Maximista – Maxie," he corrected. "It's the Jack – It's Spinelli. I was only calling in the hopes to hear your voice and know that you arrived home safely. You were quite upset when you took leave and vanished to quick for me to follow – though that didn't seem like something you would want. I respect your need for time alone, but please get in contact with me soon. The Jackal... I worry."

Throwing the phone harder than necessary onto the ground, he sunk back into his bed, held a pillow over his face and for what seemed like the millionth time – fought back the tears that burned behind his eyelids. Wasn't this what love was? When she was happy, he was happy. When she was sad, he was sad. When she was utterly, completely destroyed… so was he.

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Maxie knew she shouldn't be here, knew that this was a bad idea – didn't care. Hugging her jacket tighter to frame she did her best to give off 'leave me the hell alone' vibes. Probably failed miserably considering inside she felt like a scared doe shaking on wobbly legs. She swung the door open and stepped in.

Jake's. So it was probably a little more than a bad idea, but right now all she wanted to do was forget. Alcohol did that, right? When you consumed enough, you could completely obliterate any semblance of memories. She took the stool at the end of the bar.

"What's your poison?" Coleman asked her in a slimy tone. She took a deep breath, willing herself not to be afraid of him. He was a tool, yes, but he was not to be feared. She was Maxie Jones. She was Maxie Jones. She was Maxie Jones.

"Tequila. Lots of it."

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The ringing roused Spinelli out of a deep slumber. He was almost growing used to this. When he flipped the cellphone open he fully expected to hear Maximista's hollow voice down the line – instead he was greeted by Coleman.

"Hey Spinelli, man. What's up?" he asked.

"The Jackal _was _in a deep state of unconsciousness," Spinelli replied running a hand through his untamed hair. "Can I help you with something?"

"I'm so glad you asked that, man," Coleman said with a rueful laugh. "I've got your pretty little blond friend here. Maxie. She's drank way too much, and I can't exactly call her daddy, if you know what I mean."

"I'll be there," Spinelli muttered quickly before he hung up and rushed out of the penthouse – not even bothering to change out of his plaid pajama pants.

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"Why?" Maxie asked Coleman.

"Sweetheart, I don't know what you're asking me," Coleman responded. Maxie went to take another sip of her drink, and Coleman knew better than to reach for it. She had gotten mighty upset the last two times he had tried.

"Why would… Why?" Maxie asked shaking her head as if to clear it. This only served to make her dizzy. She didn't understand.

"Sweetheart, look who's here! It's your friend Spinelli!" Coleman said with great relief. He leaned over the bar when Spinelli approached. "Dude, you've got to do something."

Spinelli nodded and stood for a moment trying to figure out the best way to approach the wounded creature sitting on the stool. He walked forward and stopped, sat down with a stool between them and then took a deep breath.

"Maximista?" he questioned.

Maxie's head turned sharply at the sound of his voice and her one foot slid off the stool, hitting the bar with a loud thunk. He looked down expecting to see her usual heels, but only found dirty running shoes, aged with time and use.

"Spinelli?" she asked him, her eyes wide and blue. "Spinelli, why?"

"I don't know, Maximista. All I know is that it wasn't your fault," he whispered softly.

A single tear fell down her cheek and it was the saddest thing Spinelli had ever seen – it was somehow worse than if she had been a pile of limbs on the floor sobbing. He didn't know why. Maxie lifted the drink to her lips again and Spinelli spoke.

"Hey Maxie, why don't you give me the beverage?" he questioned.

Maxie looked at him once more and then at the drink in her hand. Instead of handing it to him, she set it down on the bar.

"Are you going to take me home, Spin?" she asked him, her voice soft and eerily sober. "I need you to take me home."

"Yeah, I'm going to take you home, Maxie Mine…"


	14. Be Not So Fearful

Spinelli was surprised that the unquestionably intoxicated Maximista did not slip into dreams while he was driving back to the penthouse. The heater was turned up and it started to rain, promising the roads would be a mess of ice in the morning. Neither one of them spoke and the silence was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable – it simply _was_.

Once they pulled into garage and he had turned the car off, he motioned for her to wait and hurried across the front to open the door for her. She stepped out clumsily, feet weighed by alcohol, and Spinelli ached to reach out to steady but knew better. Slowly, they made their way to the elevator and Spinelli looked over to see Maxie huddled in the corner, shoulders hunched in some sort of backwards bloom that was not familiar to him on her frame.

He opened the apartment door and followed her in; she immediately began to stumble up the stairs. She stopped half way and placed a hand on her head as if it could stop the spinning she was obviously feeling. Spinelli, ever faithful and concerned, was right behind her.

"Maximista, perhaps you would allow The Jackal to assist you?" Spinelli asked, offering an arm to her. Maxie looked at it warily and then shook her head no. Spinelli tried not to feel hurt, knew it was not him that was causing her fear, not really. "As you wish."

He stayed behind her as she walked up the stairs, ready to catch her in case she took a tumble. Somehow, very, very slowly she made it to his bedroom and he watched her climb into his bed and pass out almost the moment her head hit his pillow.

Sighing, Spinelli stood in the doorway looking at her. Should he sleep on the couch? What if she needed him? Stepping in he grabbed a pillow up of the floor – one he must have knocked over in his haste to pick her up at Jake's – and moved it a few feet across the room.

He decided lay down with the pillow under his head, staring at the ceiling – after all, it wasn't like he was going to get any sleep tonight.

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"No."

The first time it was mumbled and Spinelli wasn't sure he really heard it. He began to count each breath he took, listening intently.

"No…"

This time he was sure he heard it. He sat up, and looked over at Maxie who was tangled up in the sheets fully clothed, curled up tightly in the fetal position. Then suddenly her body unfurled, turned, and trashed slightly.

"No! Don't. Don't."

Spinelli stood so quickly the blood rushed to his head and he got dizzy. He debated for a moment how to wake her up without scaring her, but did it matter because wherever she was in her mind right now was obviously worse than The Regrettably Pink Room.

"Logan," she whimpered.

Spinelli felt the familiar course of anger flow through his veins and he clenched his hands so hard his nails left half-moon indents in his palms. Crouching down next to the bed to make himself appear smaller, he took a deep breath and spoke.

"Maximista? Wake up; you're having a nightmare," he said in a loud voice.

Maxie's head turned but she didn't wake up. She was obviously sleeping very deeply due to her night of tequila. Though he knew it was not what she would want, he placed a hand on her back through the comforter and shook her slightly.

"Maximista, wake up; you're having a nightmare!" he said again.

This time Maxie sat up so swiftly it scared him and he noticed through the glow of the moon through his window that her skin was slick with sweat.

"Get off me!" she screamed. "Get off! Please stop! Stop it! Logan don't! Please, please."

Not knowing what else to do, Spinelli hopped up onto the bed and took her face in his hands. She fought him for a moment but stilled as he continued to talk to her.

"Maximista, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you. I'm sorry. This is all my fault. I knew, I knew he was hurting you and I didn't do anything. Please, Maximista, open your eyes. I may have failed you once, but I swear you're safe here. Nothing will happen to you again," he promised.

Maxie collapsed into tears and surprised Spinelli by throwing herself into his arms. He cautiously began to rub her back when her fingernails dug into his arm. He could feel her hot tears on his neck as she buried her face in its curve.

When she finally cried herself out she looked at Spinelli – his eyes were green and full of hurt, concern, empathy. And when he went to go lay back down on the floor, apologizing for letting her be hurt and being forced to wake her, she stopped him – pulled a corner of the blanket up and he slid inside without a word.

They slept without touching, but somehow it was just enough hearing him breathe to lull her into more peaceful dreams…


	15. Don't Stay

Spinelli blearily rubbed at his eyes when he woke, blinked slowly as the night came back to him. He must have finally dropped off into the unconscious realm at four or five in the morning, and checking his alarm clock it was now one in the afternoon – and Maximista, of course, she was no where to be found. Though he stood and made his way to the kitchen, he knew in his bones that she had left the moment she woke to avoid this, to avoid him.

Spinelli picked up his cell phone from the couch he had tossed it on last night and dialed Maxie's number. He listened to it ring and continue to ring. Sighing, he almost hang up but her voice stopped him. Sent his body into a weird state of numb shock.

"Hello?" she questioned.

"Maximista, uh, greetings," Spinelli said awkwardly as he tugged a hand through his hair. "It is I, the Jackal. I just wanted to make sure you arrived home safely."

"Yeah, about last night, I'm really sorry. I generally handle my liquor a bit better," she laughed. It was forced. Cardboard. Tasted as bad in her mouth as it did in Spinelli's ear.

"It's alright, just try to be more careful next time, please," Spinelli said softly.

"I will."

Spinelli was pacing the penthouse floor, quickly from one side to the other as an awkward silence settled on the line. He wanted to say so many things to her, promise so many things to her, but he couldn't find the words. Words. What good were words anyway? They couldn't take away what he had let happen to her.

"Maximista –" Spinelli began hesitantly. "Uhm, the Jackal was wondering if you had no other plans, if you would like to perhaps have breakfast – well, lunch – with him at Kelly's? I hear they're great for nursing a night of alcoholic debauchery."

"I'm actually already at Kelly's," Maxie said quietly.

"Oh, well give me ten minutes. I'll just –"

"Oh Spinelli, I'm sorry. I'm actually kind of ... on a date," Maxie said cautiously.

"You're... you're on... a date?" Spinelli spat out. "With who?"

"My boyfriend," Maxie replied icily.

"With Logan?" Spinelli couldn't help but question, though he already knew the answer.

"That would be my boyfriend, Spin," she said indifferently.

"He raped you," Spinelli found himself blurting out, voice raised, hand clenching the phone so hard he was surprised it didn't shatter. "He. Raped. You. And I apologize if the term isn't pleasant to hear, if you're not ready to face it. I'm sorry, more than anything, I'll always be sorry. But if you think for a moment the Jackal is going to allow you to just... to be with that monster, to allow him to hurt you time and time again – well you're dead wrong."

"It's none of your business," Maxie said angrily.

"Yes, it is," Spinelli said as he threw on his jacket and shut the penthouse door behind him. His plan was to keep her on the phone as long as possible until he got to Kelly's. "When you called me in the night hurt and scared, you made it my business. When you came to me bruised and bleeding, you made it my business. When you became my best friend, you made it my business. This is my business, and my first mistake was doubting it ever wasn't my business. And the Jackal will not be so utterly dense as to make the same mistake again."

"Your... best friend? Spinelli, come on. That's a laugh," she said bitterly. "You hardly know me. The only thing we have in common is Georgie. And I'm sorry if you thought, if you thought someone like me would ever have anything to do with you."

"God Maxie, do you think after all we've been through together, that pretending to be the Bad Blond One again is going to fool me? Do you really believe me to be that naive? I know you, and I care about you as pure as Georgie did, and that scares you," Spinelli argued.

"You don't know me, Spinelli. You see the best in people, even if sometimes it's just not there. What you see in me, who you think I am, I'm not. I never was. Now I have to go because Logan –"

"Don't. Don't even say his name to me. When I see him, he's dead. Do you understand Maxie? If I see him anywhere near you ever again, he's dead. I've barely been able to contain my urges – but if he ever dares to go near you, to touch you... to hurt you again... he's dead."

"Oh please, like you're so tough. You'd probably just end up shooting yourself in the foot again."

"I've come a long way. Why don't you ask your boyfriend exactly who broke his nose," Spinelli told her though he had to push down the bile that came up at the word boyfriend and then more after that at the thought of him ever being near her again.

His hands were shaking.

"Y-you..." Maxie stuttered, "You hit my boyfriend? And you call yourself a friend. Don't you ever, ever talk to me again. Do you understand? I don't ever want to have to deal with you again."

"Too late," Spinelli muttered to the dialtone as he watched her stare at her phone through the fogged window of Kelly's.


End file.
